


(it ain't) written on our skin (the counselor remix)

by othersideofthis (hikaru)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaru/pseuds/othersideofthis
Summary: Nolan suddenly feels like he has made a terrible mistake.“There is no match,” the Counselor says. “Not anymore. Know your place.”





	(it ain't) written on our skin (the counselor remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theworldabouttodawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldabouttodawn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(it ain't) written on our skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384090) by [theworldabouttodawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldabouttodawn/pseuds/theworldabouttodawn). 



Nolan knows the rules for your first trip to the Counselor’s chambers.

Keep your mouth shut. Turn around when the Counselor tells you to. If you don’t like your match, don’t argue. If the Counselor takes longer than the span of fifteen heartbeats to match you, then kneel. Head bowed, palms on the ground. Don’t beg, even if you want to.

When the Counselor matches you — because they will, the probability of going without a match is so small that it’s laughable — then you say thank you, and back away.

Never make eye contact with the Counselor.

And no matter what, never question the Counselor.

And so, when he’s finally of age to go, he has all of that information in his head. The rules, the sacred songs, the exact way you’re supposed to hold your hands out in supplication as the Counselor reads the name of your match. The prayer you chant, ceaselessly, through gritted teeth, as the Counselor etches the appropriate symbols into your skin.

Nolan knows all of this, and yet—

After completes his set of the ceremonial rituals, the Counselor just stares. Takes a long, hard look at Nolan. And then they shake their head.

“No,” they say. “Next.”

Nolan’s head jerks up. He catches a glimpse of the Counselor, of their long-fingered hands peeking out from the sleeves of their ceremonial robes. Their hands are crossed before their face, hiding it from Nolan’s view.

“What?” Nolan yelps. It erupts out of him before he even has a chance to call on the years of preparation he’s had for this very moment. “What do you mean, no?”

Slowly, the Counselor rises. Their robes fan out around them, and Nolan hears the quiet tinkling of bells as the Counselor advances on him. They stop, toe to to with Nolan, and rise to their full height, towering over him. There are a thousand points of protocol for the Counselor approaching you like this, and Nolan forgets all of them.

The Counselor drops their hands away from their face. All Nolan can see are two eyes, red like burning coals, set deep back in their hood. The Counselor clicks their tongue, and their eyes glow.

Nolan suddenly feels like he has made a terrible mistake.

“There is no match,” the Counselor says. “Not anymore. Know your place.”

Heat rolls off the Counselor in waves. Nolan drops to his knees.

Head bowed, palms on the ground.

 

***

 

Even though he doesn’t have a match, Nolan still has a home. The Counselor can be cruel, yes, but they take a light touch with Nolan. It’s not often that someone has their match revoked. Nolan’s an object of curiosity more than anything else. He works in the fields, the same as everyone at the Center. He takes his meals at the same time, he sleeps in the same wing of the dormitory, he says good night to the same boys he’s grown up with.

The Counselor could have cast him out, but they didn’t.

Gabe and Kailer and Owen and the others rise earlier to go to special classes with all of the matches, and even though when they return, they’re still practically thrumming with excitement from learning each others’ minds, they don’t treat Nolan any differently.

It’s not a bad life, even if Nolan does stare a bit wistfully at the long tendrils and whirling loops of the symbols etched into the skin of his friends.

He likes figuring out who the matches are, he realizes. He sits back sometimes, when he’s on a break in the fields, and he watches the others. Gabe has a series of crowns sprawling across his ribs, Nolan notices when Gabe pulls up his shirt to wipe sweat from his face; there’s an older boy, Kale, who’s stuck around the Center, waiting for Gabe, who has the same pattern curling around his wrist. Owen’s paw prints across his shoulder match a boy from a group of visiting students: Henrik, a tall boy with paw prints inked down his calf.

The matches are easy enough to find, once you know what you’re looking for.

Sometimes, Nolan thinks he’d like that. Having someone who he can share a mind with, who he can change the world with. Having the symbols of that connection etched across his skin, to make it real.

He looks down at his own bare arms and thinks: he could change that.

 

***

 

When Nolan shows up to morning chores with a spray of wheat inked into his forearm, Gabe raises an eyebrow. But Gabe doesn’t say anything. He’s too polite.

No one asks. Nolan kind of likes it that way.

 

***

 

Every year, Nolan’s Center welcomes groups of students from the other Centers spread out across the country. The students are supposed to take classes together, work together. Usually, matches are found; you spot someone three rows ahead of you in the corn fields with the same style mark, and your whole life changes.

When Centers come together, there’s always a ceremony. It’s long, hot, boring. The Counselor makes a rare public appearance, blessing the work the students will do, before retreating back to their chambers in a whirl of robes and incense.

The boys from this Center have simple markings for their matches. Groupings of lines, rudimentary symbols. Not elaborate at all, he thinks, until he sees a boy with constellations weaving their way up his arm. The constellations suit him; he walks through the ceremonial hall almost as if he’s walking on air. He seems carefree. Luminous. Nolan wants to know him.

Nolan rubs at the bundle of wheat etched into his arm, hidden under his shirtsleeve.

Nolan hasn’t seen any other people with constellations yet, not in his class or in any visiting groups. This boy’s match is still out there somewhere. Waiting.

The boy with the stars on his arm looks at Nolan. Sees him. Smiles.

Nolan’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t exhale until the boy passes by, turns the corner, out of Nolan’s eyesight.

 

***

 

His name is Nico, Gabe tells him.

Nico.

 

***

 

Gabe watches the way Nolan’s eyes follow Nico around, so of course he introduces them.

“This is Nolan,” he says, shoving him into a gaggle of their classmates, Nico and his charming smile at the center of them all. “He likes farming and history classes and not telling me when I’ve gone to class all day with my shirt inside-out.”

Another little shove, right between the shoulder blades. Nolan stumbles forward another step.

Nico’s hand darts out, catches Nolan before he stumbles further. His hand is warm and strong around Nolan’s arm. Nolan hates that he feels so smitten, so taken with this boy, and then he opens his mouth.

“Hi Nolan,” Nico says. His fingers brush down Nolan’s sleeve as he lets go, apparently sure that Nolan isn’t going to topple over at any moment, or, at least, not without Gabe’s help. “I think we’re going to be in the same history class., Gabe was saying earlier.”

“The one after third bell?” Nolan asks. His voice definitely doesn’t squeak.

“That’s the one.” Another grin from Nico. “Maybe you can help me, if I’m behind.”

There’s an elbow in Nolan’s ribs. To his right, Gabe coughs, conspicuously. “Sure,” Nolan says. “I’d be glad to help.”

 

***

 

Not only are they in the same history class, but it turns out they have identical schedules. World Politics. Agrarian Methods. Animal Husbandry. History of War.

All day. Every class. Nico’s there.

It doesn’t take long for Nico to start claiming the spot at the table next to Nolan. Nolan doesn’t mind, per se; Nico, it turns out, is incredibly sharp, can talk a mile a minute about the last invasion in Upper Lormarsh, or strategy for landing your armies on the shores of Esterwater, or the proper care and feeding of your herd of cattle.

Nolan tells himself that’s why he likes having Nico settling in next to him every morning. Even when Nico asks him questions that he should already know the answers to. Questions about foreign dignitaries that he knows for a fact that Nico’s met, or field work that Nolan’s seen him do already. Nico doesn’t need the help in their classes, he’s too smart for that, but yet there he is, every day.

“What do you think went wrong in the Battle of Swynhall?” Nico asks. “Was it the supply lines?”

“Isn’t your Center near Swynhall?” Nolan asks. “Didn’t you grow up with that?” Nolan reaches between them and swipes his fingers across the screen of their shared data tablet, flipping to the notes from the morning’s lecture.

Nico just hums, lifts a shoulder. “I think it was because of the supply lines being cut,” is all he says. He swipes over to another screen, showing a map of the battlefields. “Definitely.”

There’s no way Nico doesn’t actually know the answer to this. “Right,” Nolan says, “but look here.” He bumps Nico’s fingers out of the way, so he can zoom in on the maps showing the troops. “The Counselor for Witchton, they made a deployment mistake, right here.” Nolan taps the screen, right on top of a greyed-out symbol of a person, representing casualties of war. “If they’d cut left, instead of right, then maybe. They had every advantage, but they wasted their top soldiers.”

Nico’s fingers slide underneath Nolan’s, pressing against the map. “Maybe,” he says. “It’s possible.”

Their data tablet flashes. It’s time to move on to their next lesson. Nico’s hand stay put under Nolan’s, warm and soft and inviting. Nolan wants to twist their fingers together, wants to feel what it would be like to hold Nico’s hand in his.

He doesn’t, though. Nico — there’s someone out there for Nico. Someone in a Center halfway across the world, maybe. Someone with the same set of constellations sprawling across their body, maybe, or tucked behind an ear, or etched across a collarbone. Someone, somewhere, is Nico’s.

So Nolan doesn’t.

He doesn’t. Even when Nico smiles up at him shyly when they’re working on a tough project. When they’re in the fields, bringing in the last of the summer crops, Nico’s shirt soaked through with sweat. Every day, it gets harder for Nolan to pull his eyes away, to give Nico his space.

Nico has a match. There’s someone out there who’s going to love the way Nico’s hair flops down into his eyes when he tilts his head, the way his eyebrows knit together and his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth when he’s concentrating hard. There’s someone out there who’s fated to love Nico’s laugh as much as Nolan does.

 

***

 

After the last harvest, everyone stays out in the fields, sprawled in a sweaty heap. Nolan would rather go in, but Cody and Kailer insist. It’s not often that they’ll have these opportunities; as fall slides into winter, their time at the Center will be up. The Counselor will send them to new assignments at the Ending Ceremony, their first as adults. The matched pairs will go out into the world to take their rightful places in the government, in the military, the academies.

Nolan doesn’t know where he’ll go. He doesn’t have a match. He doesn’t have a job. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing in this world.

Like so many other things, Nolan tries not to think about it.

“I think I’d make a good Counselor,” Kailer says. He raises his hands, palms up, and chants under his breath. He does his best to appear menacing, but his voice cracks as the chant come to a crescendo, and everyone breaks into peals of laughter. “What?” Kailer yelps. “You’ll all be sorry when I’m deciding everyone’s fates.” Cody throws something at him, and their entire group starts bickering over the sorts of matches Kailer would make.

Nolan’s corner of the gathering is more quiet. Gabe takes a long sip from his canteen before passing it over to Nico to share. “I don’t know where I think the Counselor will send me,” he says. “Kale said he thinks we’re being sent to the oceans, but I don’t know.” Gabe wipes sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. “Sometimes, I have visions of mountains, snow-capped ones. I wouldn’t have the visions if they weren’t true, right?”

“You’re lucky,” Nico says. “I haven’t had a single vision. No clue where I’m going.” He passes the canteen over to Nolan. Their fingers brush for just a second before Nolan hurriedly pulls away. “I just hope there’s someone else there.” Nico sets his hands in his lap, casts his eyes down.

It breaks Nolan’s heart, to think of Nico getting sent on an assignment, still without his match. Nico, all alone, herding cattle or something, until a Counselor finds his match. It sounds awful. The world shouldn’t work that way. Nico, of all people, doesn’t deserve solitude.

“I’d go with you,” Nolan thinks, and he doesn’t realize he’s actually said it until Nico snaps his head up. Nolan’s cheeks flush pink and he coughs weakly. “Uh.”

Nico laughs, but he sounds pleased, not cruel. “That would be nice,” he says, “to have a friend, wherever I am.”

Nolan smiles, a little strained. A friend. Of course. Because Nico’s match is still out there. “Someone has to help you get your work turned in on time,” Nolan bluffs.

“Where would I be,” Nico muses, “without you?”

And that’s too much for Nolan. He looks about for something to do, for an exit, to get him away from Nico before he says too much. “I’ll get more water,” he says abruptly, shaking the canteen, the few sips of water left sloshing around inside. “It’s just been so hot out.”

He escapes, to the sounds of Gabe and Owen and Kailer all kicking up in an old argument over a prank that Cody tried to pull on the Counselor’s attendants. Nico’s never heard the story before, but it’s an old, familiar one for Nolan.

He imagines Nico, smiling wide, hearing about Cody’s antics. Nico, throwing his head back in laughter. The long lines of his neck, an expanse of pale skin.

No. It’s too much.

 

***

 

The Ending Ceremony is always a lavish event. Nolan’s attended before as a spectator, watching older friends receive their assignments. But tonight, it’s his turn.

Well. Not _his_ turn.

Nolan lingers at the back of the crowd, his white robes indicating _purity_ , an unmatched state. There aren’t many white robes around; only a handful, all faces he knows.

His friends are all in red robes, clustered in a loose circle around the Counselor’s platform. They gather in twos, each matched pair awaiting their assignment.

There’s a looser ring of students in yellow robes: people with matches who haven’t been found yet. There aren’t as many there, but still a fair share of familiar faces. Cody catches his eye and waves; no one’s found Cody’s match yet, someone with a golden sword burned into their skin, too.

Nolan scans the yellow-robed students looking for Nico’s familiar silhouette but comes up empty. Nolan starts to panic, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Is Nico among the matched students? Did his match show up? Did Nico get sent away, instead? How could Nolan have missed this?

And then, behind him: “You too, eh?”

Nolan spins around, and there’s Nico. Hands clasped behind his back. A faint smile unfurling across his lips.

In pure white robes.

Nolan sputters, casting about for words and finding nothing. All this time, Nico was — Nico was like him, unmatched, untethered, waiting for his place in the world.

“You seriously don’t have a match?” Nolan blurts out.

Nico shrugs. Like it’s no big deal at all. “No, never.” He steps towards Nolan, closing the gap between them. “I went for my matching with my Counselor and was turned away. They let me come here with the rest of the class because they didn’t want me to stay back, alone.” He reaches out and presses his hand to Nolan’s arm, right over where the drawing of a bundle of wheat is inked into his arm. “You?”

Nolan nods. He doesn’t like to think about his matching, about the way the Counselor burned in front of him, about the terrifying way that Nolan forgot all protocol in his panic. “No,” he says finally. “The Counselor said I had a match, but that it went away. Disappeared. Was taken, maybe.” Nolan desperately wants to push up Nolan’s sleeve, examine the constellations etched into his skin. Draw his fingers across the delicate dotted lines.

Nolan wants, so badly.

Nico hums and pats Nolan’s arm. “Then at least we aren’t alone here,” he whispers.

There’s so much that Nolan wants to say to that. His mind is reeling — Nico doesn’t have a match, Nico isn’t looking for the person he should be drawn to, Nico isn’t off-limits — but he doesn’t know where to start.

A set of bells begin to toll from the top of the meeting house, bringing the ceremony to a start. “I should go,” Nico says, inclining his head towards the rest of his peers.

Nolan nods and watches him go. Watches his white robes swish around his legs as he walks.

Nolan is left to stand by himself, transfixed solely on the thought that Nico doesn’t have a match.

 

***

 

“Does it bother you?” Nico asks him after the ceremony.

They’re in Nico’s room. Nico lounges on the bed, his sleeves pushed up, showing off the stars on his skin. Nolan looks away. It’s everything he wants, and yet still, not quite.

“It did,” he admits. “When I saw everyone else being matched, I wondered why not me. Why was my match taken away?” He sits on the floor next to the bed, head tipped back onto the mattress. Dangerously close to Nico’s thigh, warm through the thin linen of his robes. “But my work here changed that, I guess. I’m good in school, in the fields. There’s a place for me out there, I think, even if there’s no one to meet me there.” Nolan closes his eyes, tries to imagine the rest of his life.

He mostly thinks of Nico.

“What about you?” Nolan asks. “What was it like?”

“The same, I think.” He presses his hand down into the mattress; his fingers brush through Nolan’s hair as he settles, and Nolan shivers. “It didn’t matter. My Counselor, everyone else, they said I can still do great things, and I think they’re right. What everyone says about your match — the way they live in your head, the way you know each other, without question, it seems nice, but I’ve never known that, yes? How can I miss something I never had?” His fingers slide against Nolan’s hair again, surely an accident, but Nolan is loathe to move away. “I’ve been fine without that being my life. But.”

Nolan’s eyebrows shoot up. He turns his head to the side, blinking up at Nico.

“But?”

“I met someone,” he says, “and now I wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to have someone like that.”

Nolan tries not to let disappointment flitter across his face. Nico’s met someone — of course Nico’s met someone. Maybe one of the other unbonded students, or someone who’s still waiting for his match. Nico could take a temporary assignment, follow someone to the ends of the earth while he has time. Nico could go into battle, or he could run an academy, or he could become a Counselor, Nico could do _anything_ , and he’d do it with someone else at his side, and there’d be nothing to stop him.

Maybe it’s for the best that Nolan’s always assumed he would spend the rest of his days alone.

“Well,” Nolan says. “Well, that’s good.” He stands up carefully, paces to the other side of the room to drop down into Nico’s desk chair. “I’m glad there’s someone. I hope it works out for you.” Nolan meets Nico’s eyes for a moment, then looks away. “You’ll be great, no matter where you go. Who you go with.”

“Thanks,” Nico says, and when Nolan glances back over, he’s got a soft smile on his face. He’s clearly thinking of his person, his not-match. “I hope it works, too.”

Nolan feels a little like he’s dying inside. “I should go,” he says, and he hurries from the room before Nico can stop him, before Nico can even get a word out edgewise.

 

***

 

Nolan goes to the Counselor to ask for an assignment. Anywhere, he says. The most remote hills of Oakedge, the murky waters of Blackbrook. He would tend cattle in Wildenesse, he would advise troops in Esterash. Anything, if it meant he didn’t have to watch Nico plan out his days with someone else.

The Counselor has no answers for Nolan. No assignment. Not yet. They turn their back on Nolan. There is no ceremony for this, no protocol, and there is nothing that can be done.

It’s Gabe who finally catches him as he’s entering the dining hall.

“So,” he says, curling his hand around Nolan’s elbow and steering him to a table. “What’s going on with you and Nico?”

Nolan frowns and pulls his arm away, though he lets himself be shoved down onto an empty bench. “There’s not a _me and Nico_ ,” he says. “What are you talking about?”

“Hm.” Gabe nods across the room; Nolan looks in the direction of Gabe’s gesture and there’s Nico. He’s deep in conversation with Kailer, but his eyes keep flicking over to where Gabe and Nolan are sitting. “He can’t stop looking for you.” Gabe drums his fingers against the table. “Like he wants to be over here.”

Nolan laughs awkwardly. “Come on,” he says. “He wants to be over here because he knows I always get the best picks at the dessert table.” It’s a weak lie, and Gabe knows it.

“Don’t be dumb,” Gabe says. He stands up, though, giving Nolan his space. “This is a good opportunity for you. Don’t screw it up.”

There’s nothing to screw up, Nolan thinks. Nico’s going to go back to his Center, get his own assignment, start his own life with someone else, match or no. There’s someone Nico’s been thinking about, and it’s not Nolan. He wants to tell Gabe all of this — wants Gabe to know how much Nolan _wants_ , how much he wishes he could beg the Counselor for one more chance, for one last glance into the universe, to cast about one more time and see if there’s a match out there for him.

Nolan waves Gabe off. “Don’t you have nautical charts to work on with Kale?”

“Mmhm.” Gabe smiles. “Sure.” As he backs away, Nico comes into view. One hand on Gabe’s shoulder, a grin on his face. “Hey,” Gabe says, pushing Nico forward, towards Nolan’s table, “I was just leaving.”

Gabe grins at Nolan. Winks. He _winks_. With friends like this, Nolan thinks, then lets the idea trail off as he turns his attention to Nico.

“I’m going to see if they’ve got any of that berry cake,” he says. It’s Nico’s favorite; he steals great heaping forkfuls from Nolan’s tray every time they serve it. “Do you want some?”

“No,” Nico says, but the smile spreading across his lips lights up his whole face. “I’ll just have a bite of yours.”

 

***

 

Nico is there, and Nico is everywhere, and Nico is always present, always an arm’s length away from Nolan, until he isn’t.

“The Counselor,” Gabe says, and he sounds afraid this time. “Nico got called in.”

There’s nothing to do but wait, then. The Counselor doesn’t call people in for fun. They call you in to tell you that you’re going away.

Nolan waits outside Nico’s room, back pressed up against the door. It’s not exactly a _just friends_ thing to do, but Nolan has to know.

He must nod off, because one moment, the hallway in front of him is empty, and the next, he’s blinking his eyes open to Nico’s face looming in front of his.

“Hi,” Nico says. His smile is soft, fond. Nolan wants to set his fingers to the curve of Nico’s lips. He wants to taste them, his mouth over Nico’s. Nolan _wants_.

“Hi,” Nolan responds. His voice creaks; he coughs, trying to sound more awake than he is, and failing. “Strange meeting you here.”

Nico laughs, and even his laugh is beautiful. “Get up,” he says, extending a hand to Nolan. “Come in, I think we have something to talk about.”

The worst words in the entire world — we have something to talk about — but Nolan goes along with it. His hand is folded into Nico’s, and when he stands up, Nico pulls him close for just a moment as Nolan staggers to keep his balance.

When they’re settled in Nico’s room, Nolan perched nervously on the edge of the bed, Nico finally breaks it to him: “the Counselor gave me my assignment.”

Nolan exhales. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Where?” he asks, and then, “With who?”

“The barracks in Greenbridge,” he says. Nico settles next to Nolan on the bed. Nolan wants to lean away; Nolan wants to crawl into Nico’s lap. “I’m going to be working on supply line strategy with their Counselor.”

It’s a perfect job for Nico, who will get to make endless connections with every commander, every soldier, every Counselor and aide and up-and-comer that wants to pass from east to west. Nico will charm them all with his smile. Nico will get whatever he wants.

“That’s great,” Nolan says, though he can’t quite muster up the conviction in his voice that he’d like. “You’re gonna be amazing there.” He plasters on a smile, but it’s not enough; Nico looks hurt, and Nolan can’t quite figure out why. “Is your — your whoever — the person you want to work things out with. Are they coming?”

“I thought maybe,” Nico starts, haltingly. “But he’s been… distant.” Nico presses his hands flat to the bed. “And so now I wonder if he would go.”

Nolan’s heart feels close to shattering, but here is Nico, and Nico trusts him with this, with his sadness, his uncertainty. And Nolan doesn’t feel like he’s a good enough person to deserve that trust from Nico, but here he is.

“Nico,” Nolan says. He lets his hand hover over Nico’s on the bed. “Someone would be ridiculous to say no to you.”

Nico perks up at that. Something bright flashes in his eyes. “So you’d come?”

That is — that is not what Nolan expects. “Me?” He tilts his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Nolan’s spent his whole life being an extra, a third wheel, not part of a matched set. He doesn’t think he’d survive watching Nico build a life with someone. “I’d visit, but—”

“Oh.” Nico frowns, hangs his head. “I guess that would be—” He trails off.

It wouldn’t be enough.

“You’re starting out on the rest of your life,” Nolan reasons. “You don’t—”

“Why are you hiding?” Nico asks then. His words are sharp, clipped. “What did I do? Ever since the Ceremony, you—”

“Hiding?” Nolan blurts in a panic. “Hiding! No, I—”

Nico’s face falls even more. “Then what? You avoid me. You try to get your own assignment. You spend your time with Gabe and you whisper with him and I think, I think maybe you don’t like—”

Nolan is horrified that Nico would think anything of the sort, even if Nolan _was_ sort of ignoring him. But it was all for noble reasons. “It’s not you, it’s not you,” he says, words tumbling out of him in a rush before he can even think about what he’s saying. “I just see you, every day, and I know you’re going to leave, to go find the person you want to be with and—” Nolan squeezes his eyes shut, because he knows what’s coming out of his mouth, and he can’t stop it, can’t stop it any more than he can’t take back the way he’s felt about Nico since the first second he saw him. “I wanted to be that person, and I’m not, and—”

“Nolan.” Nico’s hand curls around Nolan’s wrist and slowly, he opens his eyes. Nico’s looking at him with the most gentle of smiles. “Nolan, why would you think you’re not?”

Nolan blinks. “You said there was someone.”

Nico’s smile grows wider. “Yes.” His thumb rubs lightly against Nolan’s skin. “You. I asked the Counselor if I could have someone join me at Greenbridge, someone unmatched, someone still waiting for a home, and they said yes, that they could find room for one more, and I wanted — Nolan, come on. I want you to join me.”

Nolan’s never heard more beautiful words. “Me?” It’s more than he ever could have dreamed of, Nico wanting him to come with him, to make a life together, to be that person.

“Of course,” Nico exclaims, and he’s so fondly exasperated that Nolan wants to kiss him, right then, wants to thread his fingers through his hair and push him down on the bed and—

Nico starts laughing, because Nolan’s been blurting all of that out loud. “Come here,” he says, leaning back on the bed and tugging Nolan to come with him, directing Nolan down, to blanket Nico’s body with his own. “Come here and kiss me, then.”

Nolan does. Nolan runs his fingers over Nico’s face, over the surprised lines of his brow, his lips, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. Nolan catalogues all this, and then he kisses Nico, slow at first, deep, then frantic, because he’s wanted this since the first time he saw this boy with the stars on his arm and the beautiful smile.

“You’re perfect,” Nolan murmurs against Nico’s lips. Their bodies slot together perfectly. Nico’s hand is warm on Nolan’s back, wormed up beneath his shirt, fingers stroking against bare skin. “It doesn’t matter that they don’t think we’re matches. We are now. Yes, I’ll go to Greenbridge with you. I will harvest berries or trap lobsters or whatever else it is they do there. Yes, Nico.”

And that’s all Nico needs: a yes, unreserved, unashamed. He pulls Nolan’s head down, kisses him again, and every fear Nolan’s ever had just bleeds away.


End file.
